


Under You

by sasha_b



Series: Live By The Sword [8]
Category: King Arthur (2004), Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-19
Updated: 2013-08-19
Packaged: 2017-12-23 23:29:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/932363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sasha_b/pseuds/sasha_b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under You

**Author's Note:**

> Posted in order of writing, part eight of my Live By the Sword 'verse. Arthur, the son of a cop, and Lancelot, heir to the largest 'made' family in Los Angeles.

_When we barely could survive, I was never more alive_

 

“You both know how much I hate horror movies, right?"

 

The two siblings eyed each other, both smirking almost identically. “It was his idea, Arthur, I swear,” Gwen stated solemnly. “I would never have taken you to something like this. I’m more of a romantic at heart.”

 

Lancelot snorted, then caught up with the older man, slinging his arm companionably around Arthur’s shoulders. “I’ll forgive you for the screaming, Arthur, if you can forgive me for eating all of your popcorn.”

 

Screaming? Arthur, still frowning, walked more slowly so Lancelot could keep up, despite his annoyance with the other man. A break from classes was one thing – a break that they spent watching horrifically scary movies made in the previous century? Not the way he wanted to spend his free time. Fucking Hitchcock – Arthur was sure he’d never sleep again.

 

“Hmm. I’ll have to think about that,” he answered dryly, then stuck out his elbow as Gwen reached them, and allowed her to slide her manicured hand through the crook.

 

The train ride home was embarassing and fun – Arthur groaning and hiding his face at Lancelot’s hideous attempts at imitating Norman Bates as Gwen shrieked and tried to run from her brothers’ tickling hands.

 

They walked through the campus silent, but content, all three matching each other’s footsteps.

 

Gwen’s dorm was first – Beyschner Hall, which Lance oh so charmingly referred to as ‘Bitchner Hall’ – and Arthur followed her up the steps as her brother waited, mumbling to himself about having to walk home from the school because of ‘someone’s sense of propriety.’

 

Gwen grinned at Arthur and put her hands on his shoulders; she was only a little taller than he was standing on the steps above him, even though she had on her tallest shoes. Arthur always felt like a hulking brute around her – she was tiny. She swung her hair over her shoulder, and batted her eyelashes coyly, looking up at him through them. Arthur winced internally – God, fighting the two siblings off was harder sometimes than any exam – or any argument he had had with his father.

 

Besides, she knew how he felt- didn’t she? If the rest of the female population of the school could tell after seeing him once with Lance –

 

And exactly where did they stand? One kiss – and some other things – did not make them ‘together.’ Arthur sighed, pecked Gwen on the cheek, and walked back down the stairs to Lance, who was beginning to hum to himself, rubbing his chin as he waited.

 

“Night, Gwen,” Lancelot shouted, and she flipped him off, frowning at his possesive hand on Arthur’s arm. He grinned, and made a motion towards Arthur’s ass with the hand – but stopped when Arthur grabbed it and shoved it away. “Not in public,” he hissed, then waved at Guinevere, who was still watching them, her arms crossed. “Can you not bait her, please?”

 

The younger man laughed, cocking an eyebrow at Arthur. “Please – just because you have no siblings doesn’t mean I can’t have fun with mine. Besides, it’s late, there’s no one around, and I had the urge. You should be flattered.”

 

Arthur rolled his eyes. “You were going to grab me just because she was watching. Not because you ‘had the urge.’ Come on – we’ve still got half a mile to walk.”

 

Lance groaned. “And I agreed to leave the car at home because…”

 

“I asked you to.”

 

“Ah, yes,” he answered, shrugging. His sport coat draped around him like it was tailored for him – come to think of it, it probably had been. Arthur looked down at his own worn boots, and thought again that it was time to hit the shops – as much as he hated it.

 

He managed to drag his gaze from the ground where it usually was at the sound of water running. They had reached the center of the campus – their apartment was on the other side – and he had forgotten about the new fountain the alumni board had just put in. “Nice,” he said, moving to get a closer view. Dark wood walls with a Japanese feel to it, the landscaping matching the set up as well. It was secluded, pretty, and a nice surprise to anyone in this part of the campus. 

Arthur had wandered up to the small tiers of waterfalls that fell into the large round pond. He reached out a hand to let the water sift over it, and Lance’s hand was suddenly next to his, the fingers catching Arthur’s and turning him around.

 

_I hear your breath move in, out slowly_

 

“Sorry if I embarassed you,” the younger man said, smiling lightly. “With Gwen, I mean.” He kept a hold of Arthur’s hand, using it to tug himself closer to the older man, who merely raised one eyebrow benignly.

 

“Indeed. I’m sure you two are perfect angels all the time when I’m not around,” Arthur commented. “Remember how long I’ve known you?”

 

“Yes,” Lance replied after a time quietly, “but…things are different now.”

 

Arthur started to smile, then cocked his head quizzically at Lance’s expression. “Did – does she make you jealous? Of the relationship she and I have?”

 

“No! No, of course not,” the younger man answered quickly, frowning. He played with their intertwined fingers. “Not really.”

 

Arthur’s face held many emotions – he wasn’t sure how to react to that statement. So he did the best thing he could – he told the truth.

 

“Lance,” he stated, “I love your sister, that’s true. But she’s not…I don’t…I’ve never wanted her.”

 

The dark eyes that met his green ones were intense and thoughtful. “And do you? Want me?”

 

Arthur tugged Lancelot closer to him by their joined hands, and his forehead met the other man’s.

 

“I don’t honestly know what’s going on with us. I’ve known you since we were children – and since then? I’ve known there was something between us. At first I thought it was just kids having things in common. But then – I don’t know, Lance. It’s like you’re the same as me…but not. Like you fill out the parts that I don’t have – and didn’t know about. It’s strange. Oddly comforting. And when you’re not around – I’m not right, either. I love you like no one – but I don’t want to screw up what we have mentally by being physical, you understand me?”

 

Lancelot sighed, his warm breath pushing past Arthur’s cheek in a familiar rush of heat. “It’s kind of too late for that, Arthur,” he said. 

 

_Lance’s lips warm on his, the other man’s body squirming in his lap, their skin on fire –_

 

Arthur shook his head and opened his eyes, which he hadn’t realized he’d closed. _God damn it._ He snorted out a frustrated breath, and raked a hand through his hair, letting the arm drop to encircle the other man’s waist, and pulled him flush to Arthur’s body.

 

“Yes,” he said simply. 

 

Lance smirked once, then leant in, his mouth brushing gently across Arthur’s nose, then his lips. “Then take me home,” he said, his hands resting on Arthur’s hips. “Take me home and show me.”

 

Arthur turned, and with his arm around the other man, lead him from the school grounds to their home, and whatever was going to happen.

 

*

 

_you moved in slow degrees a sudden memory_

 

Arthur was the first one in; he clicked on the lights hurriedly, still thinking in the back of his mind of that damn movie. If Lancelot ever snuck up on him in the shower…

 

“Want a drink?” Lance asked from the kitchen. 

 

_Oh, god, please yes._

 

“Yes,” Arthur answered, his voice a nervous squeak. He cleared his throat. “Be right there,” he said, and went to his room, which he cast an anxious glance around, seeing dirt and mess that wasn’t there. Finally he stopped himself short of lighting candles, shaking his head at his ridiculousness, and took off his jacket, boots and socks.

 

Padding on bare feet to the living room, thank god we finally got some furniture, he wandered into the kitchen, where he almost crashed into Lance coming out of the small room, beer bottles in hand.

 

“Jesus!” Lance jumped and laughed. “Watch it. This isn’t exactly the biggest apartment ever.” He handed Arthur his drink and made his way to the new sofa. Sitting, he peeled his jacket off and kicked off his shoes as Arthur had done earlier. Sighing happily, he lay back into the cushy pillows and raised his bottle. “To new furniture.”

 

Arthur smiled, and sat next to him, raising his own drink. “New furniture.”

 

They drank, and both set their bottles down at the same time. They met each other’s eyes, and looked away, Lance rubbing the back of his neck, Arthur blushing and fiddling with the tv remote, which had been sitting on the arm of the couch.

 

“Lancel – “

 

“Arth – “

 

They both stopped, then Lance rolled his eyes. “Why are we acting like embarassed virgins? Give me a break – it’s not like we haven’t been somewhat involved.”

 

Arthur, relieved that the other man had brought it up instead of him, leant forward. “I know – we’re being ridiculous.” He laughed, wincing at the high pitched noise he made. God, why was he so nervous?

 

“Okay, this is stupid. Come over here,” Lance spouted, drained the last of his beer, set it down, and reached his arms out. Arthur quickly finished his drink, and moved shakily so he was knee to knee with Lancelot. Considering Arthur had had his hand down Lancelot’s pants a week previous, he thought he was really being quite childish when it came down to it.

 

He leant in to kiss the other man, and cracked his nose on Lance’s jaw – apparently the younger man had had the same idea.

 

“Arthur – ow!” Lance moaned, rubbing his stubbly cheek. He shook his head and put his hands on either side of Arthur’s face, which was overly warm and flushed. “Hold still, idiot,” he murmured. “I’m the expert, here.”

 

“Really? And how did you…”

 

He stopped talking when Lance’s mouth closed over his, a simple thing that made him feel strangely rubbery. The hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stood up; his eyes drifted shut and he melded himself onto the other man’s body. Arthur’s arms went automatically around Lance’s neck only to shift restlessly over the other man’s chest, and he moved quickly, his knee resting inbetween Lancelot’s thighs.

 

“Told you,” Lance said breathlessly, breaking away to suck in air, his heart pounding wildly under Arthur’s wandering hands. Arthur wanted to laugh, but all he could focus on was the feel of the other man’s skin under his fingers; his lips on Arthur’s face; his hands on Arthur’s back.

 

“My room,” Arthur replied. Lancelot’s eyebrows raised, and he dropped his hand from Arthur’s spine to his ass, and squeezed it like he had been trying to earlier. “Got you,” he commented, and had the gall to smirk. Arthur was determined then to wipe that silly expression off the other man’s face – any way he could. Arthur moved closer, this time sure to grind his knee into Lance’s crotch. He smirked himself when a pleading whine made it’s way out of Lance’s mouth – and smothered the noise with a kiss.

 

Not so chaste this time.

 

Wet, heady heat – their teeth clacked together, but Arthur didn’t care. He wasn’t close enough – he had to get closer – get inside, get swallowed up – to possess.

 

“Up,” he panted, standing weakly, pulling Lancelot with him. They helped each other walk to Arthur’s room, and Arthur kicked the door shut with his bare foot.

 

“Uh uh,” Lancelot said, his voice rough. “Open. There’s no one here but us. Besides that, we have nothing to hide.” 

Arthur turned the handle and left it wide open. The lights were on in the living room, but his room glowed softly from one lamp on the desk – a gaudy thing his mother had made him take when he moved out of the house. At least it was small. Lance turned to see the source of the light, and laughed. “You still have that thing?” 

“Shut up, and don’t distract me,” Arthur growled, and stalked across the small space that seperated them. His thighs met Lancelot’s, who moaned quietly, his hands immediately raising to sink into Arthur’s hair.

 

“We were worried about this why?” he whispered. Arthur just kissed him again, then dropped his mouth to the thud – thud that was racing in Lancelot’s throat. The younger man collapsed onto Arthur’s bed, and lay loosely under Arthur, one hand staying in his hair, the other tripping lightly down his spine. “So I’m guessing you’re alright with this now?” Lance joked quietly. “You seem to – ah! – have forgotten some of your concernsssss….” He trailed off quickly, the sibliant noise hissing in Arthur’s ear, a warm whoosh that made Arthur shiver slightly. Lancelot’s hands found their way inbetween them, despite Arthur’s attempts to latch himself permanently to Lance’s neck, and began to unbutton Arthur’s shirt.

 

Arthur pulled back so the younger man’s fingers could work on his buttons, and he started to do the same with Lance’s – until he realized he was wearing a tshirt. A throaty chuckle came out of Lance, and he whipped his shirt over his head, tossing it into the corner. He finished undoing Arthur’s which he promptly chucked somewhere on the floor. Arthur’s eyes followed it, and Lance laughed harder. Placing his hand on Arthur’s face, he tugged the other man’s gaze back to him. “I’ll get it pressed, I promise. Now, where were we?”

 

_along the edges colors blur and seem familiar_

 

“Here,” Arthur answered, smiling too. He kneed the other man’s legs apart, and settled himself between them, one hand on Lancelot’s hip, the other rising to run slowly over the other man’s sharp features. Lance drew his lower lip into his mouth, catching it between his teeth, and breathed heavily as Arthur seemed to memorize his structure, Arthur’s eyes following the movement of his fingers on Lance’s skin.

 

His fingers gently coaxed the lip from between the younger man’s teeth, and traced the fullness there.

 

“Gods, Arthur,” Lancelot panted, “you trying to tease me to death?” He took up Arthur’s hand, and moved it from his hip to his crotch, and the growing hardness there. Arthur sucked in a breath, and looked at the other man through darkened irises, his expression passionate, his face hard to watch for too long without getting overly engrossed in it.

 

Arthur’s fingers drew a burning line up Lancelot’s fabric covered cock, and began to work deftly at the button fly of his pants. “Too easy for you to wear jeans with a zipper, hm?”

 

Burbling laughter, then a whimper as Arthur’s mouth sealed itself over Lance’s as Arthur finished his work on the fly. “At least I looked good,” the younger man whispered onto Arthur’s mouth, a grin pulling at his lips.

 

Arthur rolled his eyes, and drew away from the other man, sitting back on his haunches and took in the vision that was panting on his bed. Face flushed, hair in disarray, a few red spots on his chest and neck from Arthur’s overeager mouth, jeans undone, bare feet.

 

“God, you…” Arthur started, then shook his head. He was amazed at how beautiful the other man truly was, but he thought it not so smart to stroke Lancelot’s ego too much. Not yet, at any rate. 

 

“Not God,” Lance said, smiling brightly. “You.”

 

Arthur almost felt guilty about not wanting to play up Lancelot’s ego then, but decided to hell with it, and stood, reaching for his belt buckle. “Uh uh,” Lance kept grinning, and stood with him. “Come here,” he continued crooking one finger. Arthur looked at him dubiously, but his rational function wasn’t in charge right then, so he obeyed. They stood toe to toe, and Lance leant in so he was breathing on Arthur, who leant the rest of the way, and touched his forehead to the other man’s. Their eyes remained locked as Lancelot’s hands undid Arthur’s belt, and slid his pants down, leaving him only in his underwear.

 

“Stripes? Oh my god, will wonders never cease?” Lance’s eyebrows rose, his fingers plucking at the boxer/briefs that Arthur had bought on a whim.

 

“Sale,” he answered gruffly, his cheeks tinging pink, “…besides, at least I wear them.”

 

A snort. “You want me wearing more clothing? What’s wrong with you?” Lance shucked off his jeans, revealing he was indeed sans underwear, his lean legs in better shape than Arthur thought someone as thin as the younger man had a right to be.

 

“Now I know I might be able to get you to wear animal prints,” Lancelot said, his face deadly serious – for only a moment.

 

He guffawed so loudly Arthur thought the neighbors might come knocking. “Oh, that was so worth it – just to see that look on your face,” Lance continued to giggle, moving back to the bed, lounging like he was made for it.

 

_Let go completely feeling you take over me_

 

“Stop giggling. At least I don’t wear briefs,” Arthur swore under his breath. “I do have some taste.”

 

“Well, Castus, get over here so I can see if that’s true.”

 

Leave it to the other man to turn everything into innuendo.

 

Arthur divested himself of his now embarassingly striped pants, and had to fight the urge to shut the door again. He wasn’t used to being so open, even though it would be stupid to worry – they were the only ones who lived there. He felt strange; his naked ass hanging free in the breeze – anyone could walk by –

 

“Would you stop worrying about being undressed and get over here so I can distract you? Jeez,” Lancelot grumbled, “my arms are getting tired.”

 

Arthur had to smile at that; the other man did have a way of making him forget the silly worries Arthur’s mind loved to throw at him. He sat down, his hand going to Lancelot’s thigh, outlining the muscle, his eyes half masting slowly. Lance’s face smoothed, and he put his own hand over Arthur’s. The mood in the room changed– Arthur felt the heat rise quickly, and a small sweat broke out on his upper lip.

 

“Come here, Arthur.”

 

The tone of Lancelot’s voice brooked no argument – aside from the fact Arthur wouldn’t say no – not now, not ever. He moved in a haze to lay on his side, facing the other man, gazes locking again. Lance’s hands reached for his, and it took Arthur a moment to feel the slick stuff being rubbed onto his palms.

 

He blushed fiercely, but Lancelot shook his head, one finger going to Arthur’s lips. “I want this. I want you.” Lancelot had the art of lying down to a science, but Arthur could always tell – the brown of his eyes changed. They were clear and calm – and thick with desire.

 

They had both had women and men. But this was different – Arthur had had one disastrous relationship he had thought was the real thing before – and had never found a man or woman that he wanted to get heavily involved with again. He hadn’t been intimate with anything besides himself for a while – Lancelot knew that – and Arthur appreciated the time the younger man was taking. He knew from previous experience just how quickly the other man went through lovers.

 

It was appreciated – but odd. Arthur made a mental note to ask him about it later, but as Lancelot’s hands went to Arthur’s cock, all coherent thought flew from his brain.

 

Oh God. Oh God oh God oh God.

 

“If you’re not going to do it,” Lance whispered, his fingers moving slowly, his own palms oily, “…I’m not exactly the most patient of men, Arthur.”

 

Arthur bit back a groan, waited til the other man was finished, and lifted himself so he was nestled in the cradle of Lancelot’s thighs again. His fingers dipped over the taut stomach, playing with the navel, then traced a slightly greasy trail over Lancelot’s inner thigh to the the spot behind his balls.

 

Eyes meeting, one hand in his hair, the other on the small of his back, encouraging. “That’s more like it,” Lancelot murmured, “…I want you to learn me. I need you to – ah, fuck.” He shuddered as Arthur’s fingers found their way inside him, two at first, the muscles tight but not unwelcoming. Arthur brushed lips over Lancelot’s, his eyes still open, and moved his fingers, stretching and trying for pleasure, which was apparently working.

 

A pathetic sound - a whimper, really - broke through his concentration, and the feel of the squirming hot body beneath his about set him off too quickly, so he shifted to the side, stopping the friction that he wanted. His own gasp reached his ears, and Lance’s eyes flew open.

 

“GoddamnitArthurwillyoujust -" Lance broke off, his face contracting, his mouth opening, silent pleas slipping through the full lips.

 

Arthur smiled, his teeth bright in the glow of the ugly lamp; he found a small amount of pleasure in making the other man beg him for something. But he also found his body wouldn’t last too long, and removed the fingers slowly, brushing his hand over Lancelot’s balls softly before settling on his hip.

 

“About damn time,” the other man panted, his knees widening unconsciously. “Just – get inside.” He grasped Arthur’s hair with one hand, and yanked him close, his mouth catching Arthur’s roughly as Arthur moved back to the spot again, and pushed in slowly, wincing at the tightness – but not surprised the man seemed more than ready for him.

 

“It’s been a while,” Arthur managed to get out, sliding further in, until he was filling the other man – his teeth clenched, the sweat dripping off his forehead to spot Lancelot’s face. “Good,” the other man answered, his knees clamping around Arthur’s legs, “only me. Let’s keep it that way.”

 

Arthur had one moment of clarity then – Lancelot getting possesive? But it too darted away on swift wings as the other man tilted his hips – and Arthur slid in further than he thought he could.

 

“Fuck,” he whispered, his eyes drifting shut. Pulsing, throbbing tight heat. It had been a while.

 

“Not yet,” came the cheeky answer. “…so move, already.”

 

Arthur complied, his arms shaking as he made sure he held himself off Lancelot – he didn’t want to crush him, and he wanted to be able to see his face. Something rose up in his mind, something that wasn’t familiar – but was.

 

_Let go completely feeling you take over me_

 

“Open your eyes,” he practically begged, “look at me.”

 

The hazy brown that met his equally fuzzy green was focused on him – only on him, his face, his nose, his lips. Lancelot’s gaze never strayed from Arthur’s face once, the expressions that passed giving rise to a myriad of feelings in Arthur.

 

Lust. Surprise. Desire. Brief pain – then a sigh that shook Arthur’s chest.

 

Love.

 

“God,” Arthur breathed, his body totally under it’s own control, his hips moving quickly, their bellies making that smacking sound he always found so embarassing before.

 

Funny how things could change so fast.

 

Arthur felt the familiar spiral, and sped up. Air puffed out of his mouth, blowing Lancelot’s hair. “Arthur, I’m – “ the other man spoke roughly – Arthur assumed he was trying to give him fair warning – but Arthur’s eyes squeezed shut, and he allowed his nerves to dictate his actions – and the wave broke, and he was gone.

 

_I was never more alive_

 

He opened his eyes again just as Lance made an inarticulate noise, his head thrown back, Arthur’s name hissing past his lips repeatedly. Arthur felt Lance's legs spasm around his own, and vaguely noticed the rush of wetness on the skin of his belly.

 

He moved still, his brain giving his hips the message that he was finished a bit too slowly. He finally was able to wrest control from his muscles, and slowed to a stop, his arms collapsing, his head buried in Lancelot’s neck.

 

He breathed like a man finishing the 100 meter sprint…and as he took in great gulps of air, the musky smell of himself and the other man wafted through his nostrils – the combined scent heady and new – but old.

 

It was right. It smelled like calm to Arthur – and like home.

 

His tongue darted out, and he licked slowly at the sweat that had pooled in the hollow of Lancelot’s throat, and he was rewarded with a slow laugh that shook them both. Fingers wound themselves into his hair, and tugged at him. He raised his head, eyes gradually becoming more focused.

 

“Well,” Lance murmured, his hand stroking the back of Arthur’s neck gently, “that was new.”

 

Arthur smiled at that, and slid his body carefully out of the other man’s. Lance sighed as he did so, and curled up immediately against Arthur when the older man was finished.

 

Arthur found the urge to wrap Lancelot up close to him was almost too strong to fight, but he held out briefly, brain functioning again, body still tight, but content.

 

He allowed a shiver to trip down his back – and discovered to his horror that each time Lance played with his hair, it produced the same reaction. He looked at the other man, who was experimentally touching different parts of Arthur’s head, and paying attention to the responses each one got.

 

“Christ,” Arthur sighed, “now I’ll never be able to say no to anything you ask. All you’ll have to do is touch my hair.”

 

A decidely evil laugh reached Arthur’s ears, and he groaned.

 

They lay together quietly, allowing their hearts and breathing to slow. Lancelot remained curled into Arthur, who allowed his arms to wind around the other man, giving into the urge.

 

_I hear your breath move in, out slowly_

 

“Arthur,” Lance said after a time, “…you still with me?”

 

Arthur thought on that seriously before replying. The question could mean many things – and he owed Lancelot an honest answer.

 

What did he want? Was this the right way to go? Would their connection be fucked up if they began to rely on physical closeness? Arthur wasn’t sure – but now that they had crossed that line, he knew, for him at least, it was impossible to go back to being only friends. With that thought, he was certain he had made up his mind.

 

“Yes,” he replied at last, smiling, blissed out – comforted.

 

Arthur didn’t have the luxury of experiencing those feeling often – and he also found that he could rapidly become addicted to them. The other man laughed softly, his hand resting on Arthur’s chest. “I just meant are you still awake. Did you go through an entire Castus thought process to answer that?" Arthur snorted, and pinched Lance’s bicep. He leant forward, and pressed lips to his forehead.

 

They both began to yawn, and Arthur managed to snag his comforter, which had somehow fallen to the ground, and covered them with it. “Sunday tomorrow,” he said, still yawning. “Then back to school on Monday.”

 

Lancelot moaned, and kicked him in the shin. “Stop ruining the mood. Shhh. Sleep.”

 

Arthur looked down at him, the face young and peaceful, the lines around his mouth gone. Lancelot’s family had been calling a lot lately; the younger man would never say what about, but it always took him days to become his normal, annoying self. Arthur swore silently he would force it out of the other man. That’s what friends were for – to help balance out the bad with the good when you couldn’t do it yourself.

 

“Arthur, stop thinking and sleep,” came the drowsy request, and Arthur kissed Lancelot once more on the mouth chastely before shutting his eyes, sleep rearing up and claiming him almost immediately.

 

A new day in the morning, new things, new directions.

 

Arthur dreamed of those things, new beginnings, new relationships, new feelings – and new happiness. He prayed that he would get to keep them all.

**Author's Note:**

> This song and band inspired a lot of this series. Here is _Under You_ by Better Than Ezra in its entirety.
> 
> Along the edges, colors blur and seem familiar.  
> While you read your magazine,  
> I was counting all the markers.
> 
> And California seemed to draw you like a siren  
> From a postcard, or a letter, in a frame of film melting.
> 
> But under you, I hear your breath move in, out slowly.  
> Under you, let go completely feeling you take over me.
> 
> A hollywood flat where we’d laugh about our fortunes  
> Well we held jobs in this bar down at 3rd and San Vicente.  
> And ramen noodles at 4:30 in the morning,  
> When we barely could survive, I was never more alive.
> 
> Under you, I feel your blood flowing out slowly.  
> Under you, let go completely feeling you take over me
> 
> You moved in slow degrees  
> A sudden memory  
> You’re a leonard cohen song
> 
> But every now and then I’d swear  
> I see you standing on a sidewalk, in a  
> Restaurant, from a taxi passing by.
> 
> Under you I feel you moving in, out slowly  
> Under you let go completely feeling you take over me.
> 
> Take over me.


End file.
